


2:16 A.M.

by orphan_account



Category: Steam Powered Giraffe
Genre: Gen, Sad, also an introspective character thing, idk its 1am this went weird places, six is sad about his facelessness, that sounds funny but its not funny
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2014-03-24
Updated: 2014-03-24
Packaged: 2018-01-16 20:30:29
Rating: General Audiences
Warnings: Creator Chose Not To Use Archive Warnings
Chapters: 1
Words: 650
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/1360756
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/orphan_account/pseuds/orphan_account
Summary: <blockquote class="userstuff">
              <p>Peter Walter VI does not have a face.</p>
<p>This is not, as one might expect, another example of the inherent strangeness that the Walter family carries.</p>
            </blockquote>





	2:16 A.M.

Peter Walter VI does not have a face.

This is not, as one might expect, another example of the inherent strangeness that the Walter family carries. For all his ancestry, Peter grew up as an arguably normal child, complete with a face and all its associated parts. The fact that his upbringing included an overwhelming amount of unexpected and occasionally dangerous involvement with robots changed nothing -- every offbeat moment, every encounter with some stray Kazoolander did not  _matter_ in the long run, because Peter the Sixth had a chance.

Until the accident, at least.

He quickly learned after that mishap that a face is necessary for most everyday interactions. Oh, how he had  _overlooked_ that when he still had all the necessary components. An endless array of questions had arisen during his recovery and even after; how was he to convey a joke without the help of a facial expression? Would anyone ever know he was looking at them? And really, how was he to get across that he wasn't just staring expressionlessly at his conversational partner but offering a smile? Getting around these things was a slow process. Peter learned to better adjust his tone of voice, to add a variety of gestures to his mannerisms, and to be clear of his intentions at all times. He'd become outlandish, in a way, something entirely out of the ordinary, and he'd done it by trying to accomplish normalcy again. Over and over again, he'd told himself it was fate -- after all, no Peter Walter could seem to go through life without some sort of monkey wrench thrown into the grand scheme. The loss had given him something new, allowed him for once to feel that the name of Peter Walter VI matched him. It was all too easy to become the head of Walter Robotics. The persona was there to adopt, and with the stage set, all he had to do was accept the role.

It was meant to be that simple! It was, but it isn't. The world still turns at an alarming rate. The Manor changes around him, friends lost and gained, and there is no difference save for that, in a way, he is no longer Peter. No one calls him that, at least, and maybe no one did before, but his memory of the months before the accident are fuzzy. What's worse is that everyone but the 'bots has since taken to avoiding his gaze, or rather his mask, like they're under the impression he also lost his  _sight._ It's no wonder, and thinking on it, he doesn't blame them, because he rarely ever meets himself in the mirror, face obscured or otherwise. He's sure that something is different now, besides, with the way that sometimes he's  _sure_ he can feel the passage of time, the way that everything is at once existent and nonexistent, and the worlds beyond this one don't keep their distance but get  _closer_ , as if one day soon things will collide and --

Six heaves a shuddering sigh, hunched over the kitchen counter, hands in his hair. The room's darkness is breached by only the light of the coffee maker and of the oven's clock, which shines a bleak  _2:16_. In the morning, of course. He slowly lowers his hands, pushing himself to stand tall again, and tugs at the sleeves of his shirt as the coffee machine sputters out its last few drips of espresso. He doesn't acknowledge the way his hands shake as he pours the last of the creamer into the mug. There's no need to. After all, everyone but him is asleep or in stasis, and he has work to do. His lab is the one place he doesn't need to try putting on a brave face -- and that idiom is  _funny_ , you see, for one reason in particular:

Peter Walter VI does not have a face.


End file.
